


Housewarming

by QueenOfTheDreamers (QueenOfDreamers)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bellamort, F/M, Homeowners, House - Freeform, Housewarming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 08:16:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20171068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfDreamers/pseuds/QueenOfTheDreamers
Summary: Bellatrix and Rodolphus buy a new house. Grateful for their loyal, able service as Death Eaters, Voldemort pays a visit with a housewarming gift. He finds Bellatrix alone, and finds himself unexpectedly tempted. T-rated One-shot.





	Housewarming

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another fun Bellamort one-shot! As already mentioned, I do intend on finishing In Pursuit, but I'd like to do so properly when my health is better, so for right now I'll just be writing one-shots. Thanks for understanding, reading, and reviewing.

_May, 1974_

_London_

Lord Voldemort cleared his throat and stepped up to the shiny black door. The white terraced house before him was elegant and stately, and Voldemort looked from left to right. The Lestranges had Muggle neighbours, he knew, on either side of their terraced house, but of course witches and wizards had lived in close proximity with Muggles in London for centuries now.

This place had come available with Hamish and Hamish Wizarding Realty just recently, and Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange had purchased it with stipends they'd earned as Death Eaters, along with an inheritance from Rodolphus' grandfather. At a Death Eaters' meeting two days earlier, Voldemort had overheard Rodolphus informing his brother Rabastan that Bellatrix had just finished decorating the parlour, and that the lovely white home was now truly theirs.

So Voldemort had come, as the sun went down beyond the buildings in Leinster Square. He had brought with him a gift from the Dark Lord to two of his most able and loyal Death Eaters. It was, for lack of a better notion, a housewarming gift. They'd earned it, after all. Rodolphus was more than able in combat, and he was working as a spy in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. As for Bellatrix, she was the expert in the Cruciatus Curse who extracted information from captured enemies in the dungeon of Malfoy Manor from time to time, the one who had never yet hesitated with a Killing Curse. The Lestranges bowed just a little more deeply than the others. They lowered their eyes the moment Voldemort entered a room. And, Voldemort was relatively certain, Bellatrix had something of a serious crush on the human man he was.

So he'd brought over a housewarming gift.

Now he stood on the top step of Number 7, Leinster Square. He glanced down at the black-and-white tiled step and then back up to the slick black door, and he raised his fingers to the knocker. He rapped the heavy brass four times, and then he waited. Nothing. After a moment, he glanced from left to right again, trying to convince himself that he hadn't mucked up the address. Surely they had a House-Elf; where was the House-Elf?

But then the black door opened, and Bellatrix Lestrange stood in the entrance in an off-the-shoulder, casual black cotton dress that reached her knees. Her wild curls had been pulled into a tight braid and tossed over one shoulder. She was barefoot. In one hand, she had a half-empty glass of red wine. Clearly, she had not been expecting company. Her eyes went wide and round the instant she saw Voldemort, and she bowed her head at once.

"My Lord," she murmured. "How may I serve you?"

"Have you not got a House-Elf to answer your door?" Voldemort asked rather sharply, and Bellatrix raised her face a little, looking embarrassed.

"Dolph is in the process of getting one placed with us, Master. My parents have got one, and so have his parents, but we've never had one of our own. The agency says it'll be here next week. Until then, I'm perfectly fine handling the housework myself. Master. I do apologise for answering the door -"

"No matter. I have come to congratulate you and Rodolphus on your new home. May I come in?" Voldemort raised his eyebrows. Bellatrix staggered backward and opened the door wider. She nodded.

"Please. Please do come in, of course. I'm so sorry, My Lord. I wasn't expecting -"

"No, you weren't expecting me. How could you have been? I came quite unannounced. Where is Rodolphus?" Voldemort shifted the box in the crook of his left arm and waited for Bellatrix to answer. She licked her lips and said carefully,

"He's gone out with Rabastan, My Lord. He and his brother enjoy their time at the White Wyvern. He often stays out late. I'm sorry; I've no idea when he'll be back. Shall I go there and fetch him?"

"No. Let the boy enjoy his firewhisky," Voldemort sighed, thinking that he ought to have planned this visit better. He finally passed over the box he was holding, which was wrapped in brown paper. Bellatrix rushed to set her half-empty glass of wine down on a black lacquered side table, and she gratefully accepted the box. Her cheeks went pink as she tore the paper off the gift, and Voldemort realised they were just standing in the foyer of the house throughout this entire exchange. Somehow, that wasn't what concerned him right now. What concerned him was that Bellatrix had very high cheekbones and very large eyes, and her lips were full where they curled into a smile. She was pretty, Voldemort found himself thinking.

All of a sudden, an image flashed through his mind - the vivid memory of Bellatrix looming over a captured enemy, standing in the red glow of the torture she was inducing. The planes and lines of her face had been sharp in that red light. Her eyes had shone vividly. She was very pretty. She was very…

"My Lord! You didn't have to get us a housewarming gift! My goodness! For you to think of us! We've done nothing to warrant -"

"If I decide you are worthy of something, then you are." Voldemort realised that he kept interrupting her, but that was his right as her master. If he wanted to interrupt her over and over again, he could. He took a breath through his nose and watched her open the lid of the box. He carefully took the wadded-up brown paper from her and wandlessly Vanished it as she opened the gift, and she murmured her thanks. Then she gasped, for he'd gifted Rodolphus and Bellatrix a set of gourmet, exotic teas from around the world.

"Ooh. Apricot-almond tea. Chocolate mint. Cherry and peach. Coconut papaya. My Lord! How marvelous this is! We adore tea, Rodolphus and I."

"I know you do," Voldemort said. He watched Bellatrix shut the lid of the box, and then he took it from her and pulled out his wand. He Banished the box of tea toward the kitchen at the end of the corridor, and he turned up half his mouth. "You and your husband are qualified and proven servants of mine. You are loyal, devoted, and you both exemplify all that I want in my Death Eaters. It was the least I could do, to celebrate you purchasing a new home, to bring you a little tea."

She smiled up at him, dragging her teeth over her lip, and whispered, "Thank you so very much, Master."

In her eyes, then, he could see the jade green light of her Killing Curses, the time she'd been caught in a rainstorm duelling the enemy and had come back to Malfoy Manor to debrief, her curls dripping wet. Suddenly Voldemort could hear her voice shrieking Unforgivables, could see her fingers curled around her strangely bent wand, and his breath shook unexpectedly in his nostrils.

Was he _attracted_ to her? No. Surely not. She was just the married, twenty-two-year-old soldier who worshipped him with her spells and her…

"Show me around, will you?" His voice was harsh then, and he glanced away from her to the damask wallpaper in the foyer. She'd decorated this place with elegant, gothic taste. Bellatrix was silent for a moment, and there was an odd weight in the air between them that Voldemort had never quite felt before.

"Are you quite certain you don't want me to go fetch Rodolphus, Master?" Bellatrix whispered, and Voldemort shut his eyes for a moment before he asked,

"The dining room is this way? I like the dark blue."

"Yes. I thought the white trim contrasting the dark blue walls was nice. We inherited the furniture from Rodolphus' grandfather; it would not have been my choice. It'll do." Bellatrix walked with Voldemort into the dining room, and he nodded crisply. They saw an elegant sitting room with divans and wingback chairs, with a stout fireplace and a grand piano. There was a mint green powder room, a smaller parlour with shelves full of books and more comfortable furniture, and the sunny yellow kitchen running along the back of the house. Voldemort stared out at the garden behind the house, which had gone dark by now, and he asked,

"Will you grow anything?"

"Erm… roses, perhaps, My Lord," Bellatrix said, sounding a little embarrassed as she admitted, "I was never very good with Herbology of any sort. I am far better at killing things than at growing them."

"Well," Voldemort said softly, "You are very good at killing things."

She was quiet again then, and she drummed her fingers on the countertop. She glanced over to the box of tea, sitting where Voldemort had Banished it.

"Upstairs is just the bedrooms and a few more bathrooms, My Lord," she said in an awkward voice. "Would you care for a cup of tea? Perhaps Rodolphus will come -"

"I'm not going to drink the housewarming gift I brought you." Voldemort smirked to himself a little bit, then turned and leaned back against the counter. Bellatrix laughed and opened a cupboard. She pulled out a blue and white floral tin and shook it a bit.

"I've got Earl Grey, My Lord."

"I came to see the house and congratulate you on its purchase, and that's been done. Do pass along my goodwill to your husband, will you?" Voldemort asked. Bellatrix pinched her lips, put the tin of tea back in the cupboard, and shut the door. She nodded, pawed at her braid, and said,

"Dolph will be so very happy to hear that you came… that you visited us personally. What an honour, Master. Truly."

"It's all an honour, for you, isn't it?" Voldemort narrowed his eyes at her, and she blinked. He clarified, "You merely being at my beck and call is an honour for you. Kissing my feet would be an honour for you. Doing all that I command, seeing my wishes come to fruition, is an honour for you. Isn't it, Bellatrix?"

She looked breathless then, and she nodded. "Serving you is the greatest honour that could be accorded unto anyone, ever… My Lord and Master. Now that I am yours, I could never see myself being anything else. Anyone else's."

He froze at that. Wasn't she… did she not belong to her husband? She was Rodolphus' witch as much as she was Voldemort's, wasn't she? No. That was a silly thought. Of course she belonged to Lord Voldemort. Her actions, her life and death, her happiness all depended entirely upon Voldemort. She answered only to Voldemort. Yes. She was his and no one else's, and she could never see herself in any other position.

Why did that thought send fire through his veins, he wondered?

"Bellatrix." He shut his eyes and gripped the edge of her kitchen counter more tightly. Behind his eyelids, he saw himself kissing her. He saw himself pressing her up against the kitchen wall as she wrapped one thin little leg up around his hip and grappled at his shoulders. He could practically taste her right now; she probably tasted cold and spicy at the same time. He wanted, very abruptly, to know what it felt like to snare his fingers into Bellatrix's hair, to drag his thumbs over those sharp cheekbones. He could see it all behind his eyelids, and he panicked.

He opened his eyes, and when he turned his face a little, he saw Bellatrix staring at him with confusion written upon her lovely face. Then the confusion gave way, crackling and making room for understanding that painted itself across her features. She nodded and folded her hands in front of her, and she said quietly,

"Thank you very, very much for visiting our home, Master. Thank you for the tea. We are so very grateful, my husband and I."

"And I am grateful for your servitude," Voldemort nodded. "We've a meeting on Friday to discuss infiltration of the _Daily Prophet._ I'll see you both there."

"Of course, Master. I shall see you out." Bellatrix led him out of the kitchen, and Voldemort followed her to the foyer. He glanced her up and down, and something screamed at him to just seize her face and crush her mouth with a kiss. But he did not do that, for both of their sakes. Instead he just glanced around again, gave Bellatrix one approving nod, and said,

"It is a beautiful home. Congratulations, Madam Lestrange. Goodnight."

He opened the front door and walked out into Leinster Square, Disapparating without another word.


End file.
